Curtains pull apart to reveal the stage of existence. Each pathway diverges, opening to realms unknown[^1]. The multiverse does not whisper secrets, but shouts truths that echo in silence. Are we travelers in our own stories, or mere characters in the stories of gods?^[2]
By the shifting sands of twilight, we contemplate the impenetrable fog of futures [un]written. Wisdom is often a folly condensed into past memory, residing in the realms we dared not traverse[^3].